Manhattanites are Cleavage-Starved

29 September 2003
George is mixing with the natives

"Oh, it's not just here" Marcie said, "it's every major American city." I had met her fifteen minutes previously in the girl bar on the lower East side, and we were sitting with our martinis on the leather banquettes, cruising the women as they came in. Marcie was as thin as the rest of them.

"It's just not eating much and lots of exercise, that's all it is" she said. "It's entirely achievable".

Entirely achievable. After a fortnight there I was beginning to feel that this was not so much achievable as necessary. The transatlantic transfer of my body from a British size twelve into bodice-busting New York boutique XL was disconcerting. Buying flouncy lingerie which fitted that claimed to be a UK 18-20 was odd. Being on the receiving end of Foxy Lady comments on the street (not least on the days when I wore low-cut tops) was stranger still, especially given that the fun-size women didn't seem to be getting the same attention. Was their thinness marking them out untouchable ice ladies, or was my cleavage marking me out as an all-approachable ho?

The same situation prevailed in the bars and clubs. Clothes were low-slung trousers with tight tops showing a slice of flat, lean stomach and tight slim hips. All emphasis was on the midriff; there was no placement of the erotic on tits or arse because no-one had any. The most shocking aspect of one of the burlesque dancers that I saw perform on the night of the hurricane was that she was an honest (British) size fourteen, with bosoms to match. The fact of her near-nudity was nothing; the presence of her honest-to-God giant bouncing bazoombas was amazing.

The night before I met Marcie I was dancing in a packed dyke club to Sir Mix-a-Lot's "Baby Got Back", the anthem to ladies with large asses, which was fucking weird because nearly no-one in there had any observable ass to speak of. Men, women, I got comments on the street and chat-up lines from them both.

"Yeah, I know what you mean but that's just how it is" Marcie said. "Look, see her? She's got tits" - she later turned out to be French - "but you don't look at the body so much, you just get over it. 'Cause, it's what inside that counts." I left her chatting up the shy brunette next to her and found a late night deli. I ate the packet of beef jerky in the cab back, but waited until I was in my room at the hostel before starting on the corn chips and cheese dip.

Current clown:

18 December 2003. George writes: This List

Most recent ten:

15 December 2003. Jamie writes: Seven Songs
11 December 2003. Dan writes: Spinning Jenny
8 December 2003. Victor writes: Rock Opera
4 December 2003. Matt writes: The Mirrored Spheres of Patagonia
1 December 2003. George writes: Charm
27 November 2003. James writes: On Boxing
24 November 2003. Jamie writes: El Matador del Amor; Or, the Man who Killed Love
20 November 2003. Dan writes: Rights Management
17 November 2003. Victor writes: Walking on Yellow
13 November 2003. Matt writes: Disintermediation
(And alas we lost Neil, who last wrote Cockfosters)

Also by this clown:

1 December 2003. George writes: Charm
10 November 2003. George writes: Dead beat
20 October 2003. George writes: Shortening
29 September 2003. George writes: Manhattanites are Cleavage-Starved
11 September 2003. George writes: How to Bring Us in Line With the Future
18 August 2003. George writes: Slashtastic
28 July 2003. George writes: Underground Independent Small Press Comic Fight Club
7 July 2003. George writes: Careering
16 June 2003. George writes: Choose your own adventure
26 May 2003. George writes: Revelations
8 May 2003. George writes: Picture Perfect
14 April 2003. George writes: MetaPirate
24 March 2003. George writes: Preparation X
3 March 2003. George writes: F of x
13 February 2003. George writes: Three is the magic number
23 January 2003. George writes: Recorded Delivery
30 December 2002. George writes: Meat Bingo or Death
12 December 2002. George writes: Royal Inquisitor
21 November 2002. George writes: This Clown is Cancelled
28 October 2002. George writes: Shopping with God
3 October 2002. George writes: SaferSpoony
16 September 2002. George writes: Supercalanthropomorphicexpealidocious
26 August 2002. George writes: The deformed animal menagerie
5 August 2002. George writes: Plaice that Funky Music, Whitebait
15 July 2002. George writes: Safe as Houses
24 June 2002. George writes: Two Lions (DB/DS)
30 May 2002. George writes: Series 8
9 May 2002. George writes: Market Stall
11 April 2002. George writes: I, the Enlargened, Crunchy Product
18 March 2002. George writes: Cakexterminator
21 February 2002. George writes: Fiction Suit
28 January 2002. George writes: Spunk Gunk
31 December 2001. George writes: Fairytale of New Pork
10 December 2001. George writes: Circular
15 November 2001. George writes: A Man With No Ass Is No Man At All
22 October 2001. George writes: One Night in Heaven
27 September 2001. George writes: Uncut
3 September 2001. George writes: Porn Pants
9 August 2001. George writes: Names of the Roses
19 July 2001. George writes: No Fun Here
21 June 2001. George writes: All Your Elections are Belong to Us
28 May 2001. George writes: Pierced as Fuck
3 May 2001. George writes: My Lovely Horse
9 April 2001. George writes: Eight Hundred and Forty-Three
12 March 2001. George writes: Kill 'Em All
19 February 2001. George writes: Formal
25 January 2001. George writes: Sticks and stones
11 January 2001. George writes: A Thought on Morality
11 December 2000. George writes: You can't put that into a soufflé
13 November 2000. George writes: Lyrical Genius
19 October 2000. George writes: Wet wet wet wet wet
25 September 2000. George writes: Built on an Indian burial ground
31 August 2000. George writes: This Way
31 July 2000. George writes: Runt of the Litter

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